Confessions
by Whitters
Summary: The denizens of Toronto's 15th Division have some confessions to make. And they're going to come out...one way or another. Series of one-shots. Multiple pairings. Post "Takedown"


**Title**: Confessions  
**Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** Up to and including 1x13 "Takedown"  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rookie Blue... It' makes me sad.  
**Summary:** The denizens of Toronto's 15th Division have some confessions to make. And they're going to come out...one way or another. Series of one-shots. Multiple pairings. Post "Takedown"  
**Authors Note:** _I originally wrote this first chapter as a single one-shot but then got the idea to do a series of one-shots instead. I think a lot of people at 15th are hiding what they really want—or need—to say... Not just Sam and Andy. So I'm just going to help them all along._

_While these are all one-shots, they do follow a timeline, so reading from the beginning is recommended! _

* * *

**Confessions  
****at 4 AM**

* * *

At first he had contemplated ignoring the incessant banging at his door; it was four in the morning after all. But as the noise continued to grow louder, Sam Swarek began to think about his neighbors.

His extremely _nosey_ and _confrontational_ neighbors. The very neighbors who, if woken from a dead sleep in the middle of the night by someone banging on _his_ door, were likely to call the cops. And if the police came... even though he _was_ the police... well, then he really wouldn't get any sleep now would he?

Climbing out of bed and grabbing a t-shirt, Sam made his way through the house. "Yeah, yeah! I'm coming!" he called towards the door. Flipping on his front porch light, he grabbed the handle and pulled, readying himself to tell whoever was standing there _exactly_ what he thought.

The sight before him, however, made the words die before they reached his lips.

"McNally?" he asked, not really believing—or understanding—why she was standing on his porch. Taking in her appearance Sam couldn't help but note that she looked pretty terrible; not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

"Hey," she mumbled sheepishly. "Sorry for waking you..."

"It's four in the morning, McNally," he glanced up and down the street to see if she was alone before turning his attention back to her. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she began and then paused, tilting her head to the side. "Well," she admitted, "no.. Not really. You alone?"

"Yes," Sam eyed her skeptically, remembering a time when they'd had a very similar exchange. And that night had taken them both to a place they were just now recovering from; Sam wasn't about to let the same mistake happen twice.

Andy was silent for a moment, staring at the ground. "Can we talk, Sam?" she finally asked.

"Sure," he replied, stepping aside and holding the door open a little further, "come on in."

After shutting the door he joined her in the living room where she'd already sat herself in one of the arm chairs. Taking a seat on the couch, he waited for her to begin talking, but she remained silent; just staring at her hands which lay clasped in her lap.

"Hey?" he asked after a few minutes. "Earth to McNally?" Silently he wished that someday she'd be comfortable enough to let down her walls and open up to him. She'd done so in the past, but never without prompting on his part.

"You could have died tonight..." it was barely a whisper, but Sam could clearly hear the fright behind her words.

"Could have," he admitted, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "But _my partner_ had my back." She looked up at him and he took it as a sign to continue. "It's thanks to you that I'm alive."

"I could have died tonight..." another whisper, but this one peaked his interest.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"That kid, Rick," she began, looking back down at her hands. "He could have shot me. I turned my back on him and he had a gun pointed straight at me."

"Why would you do something like that?" Sam was sure that Andy knew better than to turn her back on an armed suspect and so her admission had thrown him.

"Because I knew you were running out of time," she explained. "I knew I needed to get out of there and tell someone. So I told him he could either shoot me or let me walk out of there. And I just left." She made a sweeping motion with her arm. "Once I got outside I ran towards the cover team. He didn't come after me."

"Andy," Sam reasoned, trying desperately to contain the emotions that were building inside him. "You put your life in danger. You were unarmed; you had no gear. He could have killed you. You know you're not supposed to do something like that."

"What other choice did I have, Sam? Besides," she shrugged, "I figured that if he shot me... Well, at least I'd go down trying to save you."

Sighing, he left his place on the couch and came to kneel in front of her, taking both her hands in his. Now, so close to her, Sam suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He knew what he wanted to say, but the image of her lying in a pool of blood on the ground that kept assaulting his mind made speaking almost impossible.

"Andy," he managed finally. "As flattered as I want to be that you cared enough to try and save me... You have to promise me you'll _never_ do something like this again."

He felt her hands tense as a hard look came over her face, "I can't make that promise and you know it. Cops back up their partners, _no matter what;_ you're the one who taught me that. As a _cop_, you can't ask something like that of me. "

"I'm not asking you as a cop, Andy," he informed her. "I'm asking you as someone who doesn't want to see you get hurt."

"And I'm declining as someone who doesn't want to see _you_—or anyone else for that matter—get hurt either!" she stated flatly, turning away from him to wipe at her eyes. She was trying to be discrete about it, but Sam had already seen the tear-tracks making their way down her cheeks.

"Fair enough, I guess," he admitted, standing from his position on the floor and moving back to sit on the very edge of the couch. "But Andy, you could have seriously gotten hurt tonight."

"I know that," she confessed, "but I had to weigh my options and, in the end, you won." She paused for a moment, glancing up at him. "Luke asked me to move in with him."

"Oh?" Sam was taken aback at the sudden change in conversation and wasn't quite sure he liked where they were headed. He'd been trying his best to 'be the better man' as his mother used to call it, but there was only so much talk about Luke Callaghan that he could endure.

"And I said yes," she averted her eyes again.

"Oh..."

"After we argued this afternoon I started to rethink my decision," she explained. "I didn't want to live with him if he was going to be second-guessing everything that I do. But then you pointed out that he had my back even though he didn't have to..." she stopped, as if trying to formulate her next words. "Am I making the right decision?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. This was exactly the question that he had hoped she wouldn't ask him. It had been easy taking one for the team while Andy and Luke's relationship remained in a holding pattern; in that scenario he could be just the _friend_.

But now the heat was picking up and it was time for him to start fighting for what he wanted.

"I'm not the person you should be asking that question to," he told her honestly. "I can't give you an answer."

"Why not?" she questioned. "You've always given me advice before... even when I didn't necessarily want it." She rolled her eyes, letting out a small chuckle.

"Advice on police stuff... Easy" he explained. "Advice on why Callaghan pulled another one of his bone-headed stunts... Easy. But this is different. This is you _moving in_ with him," he looked away, "and on that subject I can't give you an unbiased answer."

"Traci didn't think it was a good idea either," Andy sighed, standing from the chair and beginning to pace. "She thinks I'm not ready for it."

"That's someone's _opinion_, Andy," Sam assured her. "This has to be up to _you_."

It took a moment for her to stop pacing, but when she did she sat down next to him on the couch, head in her hands. "I don't think I'm ready for it either."

"Then why did you say yes?" he questioned. Sam knew that Andy could be impulsive, but he'd never seen her commit to something she wasn't sure of before.

"I don't know," she confessed. "I thought it was what I wanted..." she looked at him briefly before focusing back on her lap. "I thought Luke was what I wanted. But after tonight... After everything that happened... I'm not so sure. I was in so much shock tonight that I said yes again, but it didn't take long for _that_ to wear off. Now I'm here, telling _you_, of all people, that I don't think I can move in with him."

"Then don't do it," he urged. Despite efforts to keep his tone light and casual the phrase came out with much more force than intended and Andy's head immediately snapped up to look at him.

They shared a significant look before Andy's eyes darted away and she nodded her head. "Thanks Sam," she began, smiling softly to herself before standing and making her way towards the door. With a few feet left to go, she stopped to look at him, "I'm glad you're not dead."

"Back at ya," was all Sam could say as he watched her disappear from his living room, and the soft click of his front door told him that she was gone.


End file.
